


Somewhere to Lay Your Head at Night

by raspberrymocha



Series: Raspberry does Ignoct Week [5]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Canon Disabled Character, End Game Spoilers, Episode Ignis Verse 2, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Older IgNoct, Post-World of Ruin, Sharing a Bed, Technically the Ignoct is only implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 12:30:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20082241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raspberrymocha/pseuds/raspberrymocha
Summary: The first day in ten years, and Ignis just wants a nap.Written for Ignoct Week Day 5 - Home





	Somewhere to Lay Your Head at Night

**Author's Note:**

> Funny story. I was going to write something for the other prompt: “Blind Ignis touching Noctis”, but this happened instead.
> 
> Also Episode Ignis Verse 2, but Ignis is still blind because screw pretending you can’t have a happy ending with a disabled character kthnxbye

The trouble is figuring out sleeping arrangements, that first day. The sun is back, shining overhead like nothing had ever happened to it, but all Ignis wants to do is sleep. It’s been a long night. The others agree, sounding somehow more wrecked than he feels. Only Noctis seems well-rested at all, and that isn’t saying much.

The problem is figuring out where to sleep. They could trek back to one of the rest stops, or make camp here, right on the steps of the Citadel. Or they go inside. They could finally go home.

Ignis hasn’t been home in so long, that the word had lost all meaning. “Home” isn’t a place anymore, it’s a concept. It’s crowding into spaces entirely too small for four fully grown men (especially when one of them is Gladio), meals made with fresh ingredients over a campfire, and most importantly, it’s Noctis. Noctis, covered in grime and blood and the smell of dead fish. In that regard, he’d probably gone home the day before, when their king had returned to them.

“Come on.” Noct says, grabbing his hand. “We might as well see how bad the damage is.”

“Speak for yourself.”

Noctis freezes, the grip of his hand suddenly going very tight. “Shit, sorry, I forgot.”

Ignis forgets that he’s not used to this brand of self-deprecating humor. That, to him, these wounds are still fresh and jarring and something to speak delicately about. “It was only a joke. Don’t concern yourself with it.”

Noctis doesn’t seem entirely convinced, but he lets it go. The others must have gone ahead. Ignis thinks he can hear Gladio’s thundering footsteps – and really, must he stomp around like a wild animal? – further up the stairs. He tugs on their still-joined hands, coaxing Noctis to follow them.

“It’s actually pretty clean in here.” Prompto notes. In the old days, the grand hall would have been filled to the brim with guards, servants and nobles alike, all rushing to get to their appointments on time. Now, his voice echoes off the walls, making the space seem more empty than it probably actually is.

“Ardyn must have been maintaining at least some parts of the building. This was the stage for his final battle with Noct, after all. He wouldn’t want it to be in total disrepair.”

“Yeah. Ardyn was… dramatic like that.” Noctis says.

“I doubt he bothered much with the living quarters, though.”

“Never know ‘till we try.” Gladio slams the button for the elevator and it dings just a moment later. Not many people using it these days. It’s a miracle the thing even works, really.

They ride it all the way up, to the royal suites, where Noctis and his father used to live. More Regis than Noct, really, but who’s keeping track? Ignis trails behind the others, running a hand along the walls. As his fingers dips into cracks in the stone, his brow furrows. It’s difficult for him to ascertain the extent of the damage, but Noct’s gasp speaks volumes.

“It’s totally trashed up here.” Prompto says, perhaps for his benefit.

This makes sense, though Ignis couldn’t say who exactly is responsible for the destruction. Perhaps the empire, looking for the ring, as though King Regis would have just left it in his nightstand. Or maybe it was Noctis they were after, in order to make their propaganda a reality. Or it could have been Ardyn, in a fit of rage, destroying Noctis’s home as a misplaced sort of revenge.

They’re quiet for a long moment, the only sound debris crunching under Noct’s shoes. Ignis isn’t sure what expects to find, but he allows the king this moment to process it, to grieve.

Finally, Noct says “Let’s go.” He turns and walks away quickly, as though there were a daemon on his heels.

“Your place was here too, right, Iggy?” Prompto asks as they step into the elevator again.  
  
Ignis doesn’t know if he could handle it, if his apartment were in a similar state. At least he’ll be spared the sight of it, so he answers “Yes, a few floors down.”

“Let’s check that out, then.” Noct says, hitting the button before anyone can protest.

It’s a short elevator ride, then down a few winding hallways, and soon they are standing in front of Ignis’s door. It’s locked, and he’s long since lost the key, but Gladio kicks it open with ease. Ignis isn’t sure whether that says more about the man’s brute strength, or how rotten the wood must be after all these years.

Prompto steps in first, and immediately starts coughing. It doesn’t take Ignis long to figure out why. The entire place smells of dust and decay. He runs a finger across one of his counters and immediately regrets it.

“Well,” Gladio says slowly. “At least it’s in one piece.”

“A small miracle, then.” Ignis mumbles.

His memory of the apartment’s layout is hazy at best, and he stumbles around, feeling for anything that might give him a sense of where he is. There’s the kitchen counter, with what he thinks might be his old coffee maker on the edge of it. He nearly knocks over one of the bar stools and then does bump into the back of the couch, until a hand reaches out to steady him.

“Don’t hurt yourself.” Noct says. Then, to Prompto and Gladio: “Why don’t you two go check out the guest bedroom, see if you can crash in there?”

It’s a terrible idea, really. There isn’t a single inch of the place that isn’t covered in grime, much less a comfortable place to rest. But well, they’re used to dirt by now, aren’t they? At any rate, Gladio and Prompto shuffle off without any complaints, and Noctis leads him further into the room.

“I think your room is over this way… Ah, yeah, here we are.” This door, at least opens up without Gladio barreling his way through it. They step inside, kicking up a fresh cloud of dust. “Geeze. We’re definitely gonna have to clean up in here, but I think it’s at least usable. That is, if you wanna stay here again.”

“Where will you stay?” The question falls unbidden from his lips. He does wonder, though, what Noctis plans to do now, with this life he wasn’t supposed to have.

“Dunno. Maybe I can take over your guest room.”

Ignis would like that, to keep Noct close – to make sure this isn’t all a dream and that he won’t disappear ever again. He doesn’t say any of that, though. Instead, he moves throughout the room, steadily making his way to the bed with Noct’s help. He feels along the mattress and the bed frame dubiously, but it all seems sturdy enough. Then, they pull the musty sheets off and replace them with fresh ones from the Armiger. It’s not perfect, but it will have to do.

“Where will you sleep?”

“The floor, I guess.” Ignis can picture the look of disgust on his face, that cute little nose wrinkled up.

“Noct, it’s disgusting.”

“I’ll have clean sheets at least. Or maybe I could see if the couch is any better.”

“Doubtful.” The only reason the bed is in any usable state is because the sheets caught most of the dust. “There’s enough room for the both of us.”

“In your _bed_?” Noctis squawks, in an very un-kingly manner.

“We’ve shared a bed before, if you’ll recall.”

It’s happened more times than he can count. First as kids, curled up together with a storybook squished between them. Then as adults, cramped into small spaces, their cots pushed together, or in one of the two beds offered by a hotel.

“Well, yeah, but. This is different.” Noct says, and somehow he’s right.

Maybe it’s because it is Ignis’s bed – his actual bed at home, and not some makeshift thing he’s claimed as his. When he’d been younger and dumber, he’d fantasized a lot (more than he cares to admit) about a situation like this. Of course, now that it’s a reality, he’s too tired to do anything about it.

“The offer stands.”

Noctis is quiet for a minute, perhaps looking for an out or weighing his options. “Fine. But I’m only doing this because your place is filthy.”

Ignis nods, accepting this as fact, even as he panics internally at the thought of his king _actually_ _sleeping_ _in_ _his_ _bed_. Noctis shuffles next to him, and it takes a full minute for the sounds to register.

“Are you _undressing_?”

“I’m just trying to get comfortable. What’s got you so worked up?”

_You_, he thinks. It’s always Noct. Still, he has the right idea, so Ignis kicks off his boots and sheds his jacket. There’s a soft “whump” as Noct falls into bed, and Ignis joins him a moment later, trying valiantly to rest despite his racing heart.

“You know,” Noctis says, bed creaking as he no doubt snuggles deeper into it. “Despite everything, it’s good to be home.”

“Yeah. It is.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have to go back to work tomorrow, so the next few entries may be slightly delayed. Apologies in advance.


End file.
